Three days passed. Freya had been completing her classwork, practicing guitar, reading, and doing very little else. She never made it to the biology lab. Her curiosity for a closer look at the Starball was weaker than her desire not to be seen.
By the third day, she was completely sick of the house. After Lassa left for work, Freya rode her bike to the Daffodil Park with Randall’s hip waders in a backpack. She probed the sandbar with a long stick and found nothing but rocks. She walked to look for the spot where she’d crawled up the bank, but the river had erased everything.
Freya kept the Starball with her all the time now. It was always slightly warm, and she wondered if it was radioactive. She envisioned all her hair falling out, angry red cracks spreading across her skin until she broke apart completely. If it happened, it happened. She kept the Starball in her pocket anyway. It was something just for her.
When she returned from the river, there was white Ford Fiesta in the driveway. Two women from Child Services were inside. After Freya met them, she put her bike in the garage and texted Lassa as she’d been instructed. She let the women into the house and showed them around as she waited for Lassa to show up. They had a lot of questions.
Did she get enough to eat? Of course. Her appetite had been much better since she’d almost drowned. They looked in the refrigerator. There was plenty of food now. The house was spotless.
Was Lassa around enough? Yes. Freya saw more than enough of her.
Was Lassa concerned about her schoolwork? Yes. Very.
Did Lassa ever hit her? No, she lied.
Was she afraid of Lassa? No, she lied again.
Two cars pulled up outside: Lassa’s silver BMW X5 and Lynn’s mocha Mercedes S-Class with gold trim. The older of the two child services women drew a deep breath when she recognized Lassa’s lawyer. Lynn Harris was a well-dressed, wiry woman who wore her silver hair in a short, almost military haircut. Patricia Daud’s first lawyer had dropped the case shortly after he learned Lynn represented Lassa. She had a reputation.
Lynn Harris asked a few questions of the women, somehow managing to be both polite and threatening. The women answered carefully, stuck to their scripts, and quickly vanished. Freya felt certain they wouldn't be back.
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Lassa grilled Freya on exactly what they'd asked, and both she and Lynn seemed happy with the answers given. Then they all sat around the kitchen table while Lynn gave them their legal prospects.
The worst-case scenario for Lassa was a year in jail, but Lynn scoffed at the idea. The Dauds had no money, and their civil case was a bad bet. Patricia Daud had screwed herself out of a payday the moment she hit Lassa while she was in handcuffs. There were recordings of everything, both the confrontation in the principal's office and the attack outside the cafeteria. Lynn's strategy was to try to push the trial back until it was clear the lawsuit couldn't succeed, then they could offer Patricia a tiny amount of money to drop the whole thing and play nice in court.
Lynn Harris was alit as she detailed her plan. She lived for this, to beat people. She never let go of anything until it was dead. Lynn and Lassa were very alike in some ways. They sat close to each other at the table, and it made Freya wonder.
It wouldn't surprise her.
“As for the daughter, it looks like she’s going to dodge being expelled this time. The school board is giving her another chance. She’ll be in in-school suspension for thirty days.”
Lynn turned her eyes on Freya, and it made her feel uncomfortable. She had an intrusive hunch Lynn might forget what side she was on and take a bite out of her. But it was only a weird intuition. The strange look was swept away by a flat, professional smile.
“When you go back to Grayson if she speaks to you at all, do not talk to her. Go to a teacher right away and call me immediately. Literally any contact at all, and I can have her yanked right out of Grayson and locked up in Long Creek Youth Development Center.”
“What about the window at TacoTime? Will anything happen?” Freya asked.
“Nothing will happen. We have the call recording, but the camera angles aren’t good, and you told the police you didn’t see her throw the rock.”
“Well, I didn’t.”
“That’s fine. It’s just if you had, or if you had called me before you talked with them, I would have had more to work with.” Freya nodded, feeling the criticism sting. “The police aren’t going to go crazy over third-degree criminal mischief. For the time being, I suggest you don’t go downtown alone.”
Freya sank into her chair. Lassa and Lynn spoke about the specifics of the battery case, and she could only follow for a few minutes before she lost interest. She reached into her pocket and ran her fingers over the Starball, wishing she were in space. Just shooting through the nothing, with the stars crawling past. Slipping into the void forever. Never hitting anything, just flying until there was nothing left.
Freya noticed Lynn catch Lassa’s eyes and look in the direction of the bedroom. Lassa had the slightest frown, so minor most people wouldn’t have noticed.
Freya sighed. She wasn’t wondering anymore.
After a little more talking, they both got in their cars and drove off, leaving Freya in the empty house. She wondered if they were driving off to shack up somewhere or just going back to work, but it didn’t really matter.
She wished it was time for bed, but it wasn't even noon.